


The Winter War

by Hexcraft



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Battle wounds, Drinking, M/M, War, blizzard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:52:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2287427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexcraft/pseuds/Hexcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of a raging blizzard, Finland finds himself alone with none other than the nation he's at war with--Russia. As reluctant and suspicious as he is, he agrees to a ceasefire, and quickly learns that his companion has some very interesting methods of keeping warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Winter War

There was nothing but white. Knee-deep snow slowed the Russian general’s progress as he trudged through the forest, following the ski tracks of his target. The sounds of his breathing and the crunching of the snow as he moved were drowned out by the howling wind. It was the middle of winter and he was soaked to the bone—his boots weighed him down more than they protected his feet and his thick coat and scarf were stiff with ice. The wind blew snow directly into his face, making it difficult to see. He recognized the warning signs that a blizzard was coming, a big one. Yet he pushed on, searching relentlessly.

He had to be getting close.

His troops thought he was mad for going ahead alone to track down their enemy’s leader; he had left them setting up camp several miles back when the first signs of a coming storm appeared. The storm itself wouldn’t be a problem—they were more than capable of withstanding it and had plenty of supplies—but no man in his right mind would go on alone through a blizzard to hunt a dangerous opponent. The general, however, wasn’t a man like his soldiers were. He was the great nation of Russia, and a silly little blizzard was not going to get in his way.

Just as the sun was falling behind the horizon and he decided to find somewhere to take shelter for the night, the male nation spotted what looked like a cave a short distance ahead. The tracks left by his quarry led towards it and he felt a thrill of excitement, picking up his pace. He was less than fifty yards away when a trembling voice called out,

“S-stop! Don’t c-come any closer, Bragins-s-ski!”

Russia paused, looking around for the source of the voice. Partially hidden behind a tree just to the side of the cave’s entrance stood a young man, the nation of Finland, dressed in a military uniform with a gun in his hand, aimed towards the Russian. Even at that distance, he could see the younger general shivering in the cold. He took a cautious step forward.

“I’m w-w-warning you!” Finland tried to sound threatening as he aimed at the approaching nation but his hand was shaking so hard he wasn’t sure he would even be able to pull the trigger. Still, he was convinced that if he didn’t force him to leave then he would attack, and that was the last thing the Finnish soldier wanted. “I’ll shoot! I s-swear I will!” The man kept coming; he tried to pull the trigger but couldn’t manage to. His fingers were so cold he could hardly move them. 

“F-fuck!” he muttered, fumbling and dropping the gun in his momentary panic and losing it in the snow. The only thing he could think to do was run.

The Russian saw the gun fall from his adversary’s hand and watched as he ran back into the cave. It took him only moments to reach the tree where the younger soldier had been hiding and then less than a minute to dig through the snow and retrieve the gun. He held it loosely at his side as he cautiously ventured into the cave—he wasn’t about to walk into a trap.

A fire already burned in the center of the cave when he rounded an outcropping of rock, allowing him to see and sending dancing shadows over the walls. There was a bag leaning against the wall near the fire, along with a small pile of wood to keep the fire going throughout the night. Finally, he saw the young Finnish soldier in the far back corner of the cave, his back pressed to the wall as he trembled and cowered, fear apparent on his face.

“A-are you going to s-s-shoot me?” he asked, eyes wide, lips blue from the cold. He was pale and shaking uncontrollably—his uniform was torn and soaked and it was obvious to the Russian that he wouldn’t last the night in his current state.

“ _Het_ ,” he replied calmly, crouching by the fire and setting the gun down to dry. He set his pack down and shrugged out of his coat, carefully laying it out on the stone floor. “Do you have any food, Väinämöinen?”

“N-no,” the younger nation, Tino Väinämöinen, replied, his voice little more than a whisper. Why was his enemy acting like this?

Standing, the Russian kicked off his boots and set them beside his coat then draped his socks over them to dry by the fire. He knew better than to continue wearing wet clothing in such cold conditions. It would almost certainly lead to hypothermia, and his troops had already suffered a terrible amount of frostbite. That taken care of, he turned to look at the other soldier once again. “We should have a ceasefire until the storm passes, _да_?”

The Finnish man hesitated, nervous to be in such close proximity with the man who had been hunting him for days. His uniform was dirty, torn and bloodstained because of the Russian and he was half-convinced that at any moment he would pick up the gun and shoot him. However, with no food or dry blanket with which to keep warm, he didn’t have much of a choice. Teeth chattering too much for him to speak any longer, he nodded before moving closer to the fire without getting too close to the larger soldier, warming his numb hands.

Smiling innocently, the other man crouched and opened his pack, taking out several small packages. These turned out to be a loaf of bread, some cheese, and a bit of dried meat. He then proceeded to take a thick blanket from his pack and set it beside the food, seemingly unaware of the longing expression on his temporary companion’s face. Then he stood and began to remove what was left of his uniform.

Startled, Tino protested. “W-what are you doing? Are you c-c-crazy? It’s f-f-f-freezing!”

“It will be warmer to be dry, _да?_ ” the Russian replied, not phased in the least by the other man’s discomfort. He continued to strip, laying each piece of his uniform out to dry; the only thing he did not remove was his scarf, which was already thawed and partially dry due to the fire. Once he was naked, he sat and wrapped the blanket around himself, sighing at the almost instant warmth, and then looked up at the other man. “You are welcome to share my blanket, Väinämöinen,” he offered, “and my supplies, since you have none.”

Nodding again, the slim man cautiously approached the Russian, willing to endure his company for the sake of warmth.

“ _Нет,_ ” Ivan objected when the other man moved to drape the blanket over his shoulders. “You will get the blanket wet and then it will be useless. Take your wet clothing off first, _да?_ Then we will both be warmer.” His smile was innocent and told Tiino nothing about any ulterior motives he might have.

The Finnish soldier hesitated. Naked and sharing a blanket with his enemy, who was already naked? His shyness would never have allowed such a thing under less extreme circumstances. However, it was either strip and get warm or stay in his wet uniform and freeze overnight. He opted for the warmth.

Hands shaking, he fumbled with the buttons on his jacket and eventually managed to shed it, along with his undershirt, boots, socks, pants and, lastly, his boxers. A blush heated his cheeks when he realized that the Russian was watching him and he hurried to conceal himself in the blanket. Within seconds he was considerably warmer than when in his uniform, but his teeth continued to chatter and he shivered uncontrollably, even sitting near the fire under the blanket. He jumped when a hand gently gripped his upper arm and he was pulled closer to the Russian soldier beside him, but he didn’t protest. The larger man was giving off a lot of body heat and he didn’t even pause to think before shifting and leaning against him.

“It is warmer if we huddle together, _да?_ ” Ivan asked in his thick accent, putting his muscular arm around the smaller man’s shoulders; watching him undress had been enough to make him want more. Tino winced, groaning quietly at the pain it caused. He had been too cold to feel his wounds before, but now that he was warming up the pain was quick to return. 

“Are you hurt?” He was concerned. The Finnish man nodded, looking down at his hands in his lap; he decided not to mention that it was the Russian who had injured him in the first place. Angering him was the last thing he wanted to do.

Without seeming to notice the cold, the Russian discarded the blanket and stood—Finland averted his eyes—and retrieved a medical kit and knife from his pack then picked up Tino’s torn undershirt.

“Let me see.” His tone was gentle but firm as he knelt beside his companion and opened the kit. The younger man let the blanket fall off his shoulders, baring his back and sides, and did his best to hold still as Ivan dressed his wounds, binding them with strips he cut from the undershirt. Even the gentlest of touches hurt, and he flinched more often than not, biting his lip to keep from voicing his discomfort.

The Russian felt a certain amount of guilt as he applied a healing salve and bandages to the injuries—he knew he had caused them and he was sorry for having hurt the other nation, but war was war, and he could not allow his personal feelings to stop him doing what needed to be done. Never mind that he could hardly take his eyes off the slim, fit body before him, that he thought the other nation was adorable when he was pretending he wasn’t frightened, that he admired his strength and courage in battle and kind heart. He would do what needed to be done. However, for the night he had a ceasefire, and not until morning came and the storm passed would he be forced to pursue Finland once more. For now, he had a different goal in mind.

“Better?” he asked once he finished tending to the other man’s injuries.

“Yes…thank you…” Tino replied, grateful. It made no sense to him that the nation who was so brutal and bloodthirsty in war could be so tender and caring to the same man he was fighting, but he was glad for it. He watched as the larger man returned to his spot and pulled the blanket over them both. Once again he leaned close, enjoying the Russian’s heat and smiling a little when a strong arm settled around his shoulders again.

“You are still shivering,” Ivan murmured, pulling the blanket tighter around them; the smaller man kept shifting closer and was all but sitting in his lap. He began to wrap the end of the Russian’s scarf around his hands in an attempt to warm his still stiff fingers. Ivan couldn’t help but smile—the younger nation was quickly making a soft spot for himself in the cold nation’s heart. With his free hand, he picked up the loaf of bread and broke a piece off, offering it to the younger nation. “Eat.”

Unwilling to unwrap his hands, Finland opened his mouth and let the other nation feed him bits of bread, cheese and meat. The food was almost gone by the time Tiino realized that he was the only one eating.

“Aren’t you going to have some?” he asked, looking up at the other man and noticing for the first time that his eyes were a beautiful shade of violet. The other nation smiled kindly down at him.

“I am not hungry. Eat, _да?_ ” He offered another piece of bread. Tiino freed one of his hands from the scarf and took it, but instead of eating it, he held it up for Ivan.

“You have to eat something.” Despite the cold that threatened just beyond the protection of the blanket and the pain that struck with every movement, he managed to put force behind his words. For a moment the Russian only looked at him, amused that he was suddenly displaying a more stubborn side. But he didn’t want to upset him, so he opened his mouth and let the smaller man feed him what was left of the food. It wasn’t enough to fill their stomachs, but it staved off the worst of their hunger, at least for now. 

For a while they sat together in silence, watching the fire. It was almost peaceful, save for the pain they were both trying to hide. Ivan concealed his discomfort with little difficulty, but it wasn’t long before Tiino was trembling and biting his lip to keep from whimpering. Russia heard him anyway.

“You are still in pain?” he murmured, looking down at his companion. Meek, the other nodded, embarrassed because he was sure Russia thought he was weak. He expected to be taunted, but once again the taller nation managed to surprise him.

Standing, Ivan went to his pack and emptied it while Tiino watched curiously; he shivered as the cold quickly invaded the space where Ivan had been. From his pack, the violet-eyed man took a bottle of expensive vodka he had hidden below his supplies and returned to the shelter of the blanket. He opened the bottle and offered it to Finland, even though he had been saving it to celebrate the victory he had hoped to enjoy soon.

“Drink. It will help with the pain.”

Tino nodded, taking the bottle, and drank. Immediately he coughed and choked but managed to swallow the bitter alcohol, then gasped for air as his throat and stomach burned and his eyes watered. As he recovered, Russia took the bottle and drank from it, seemingly unaffected by the strong liquor. They shared the vodka, taking turns drinking, and it wasn’t long before the bottle was empty and Finland’s thoughts had grown fuzzy. The Russian’s arms held him close to his muscled chest as he sat curled in his lap, almost dozing in the warmth of the fire and the blanket and the nation that was caring for him as they sat watching the snow pile ever higher outside the cave. Just the thought of going back into the wilderness in the morning to continue the war made him shiver; Ivan’s arms tightened around him and he sighed happily, snuggling closer as he smiled.

“Väinämöinen?” the Russian murmured, unsure if the other nation had fallen asleep; he rubbed his back gently.

“Tino…” came the mumbled reply.

“What?”

Finland shifted to sit partially upright, adjusting the blanket as he did, and rested his cheek on Ivan’s shoulder. “Please stop calling me by my last name. Call me Tino.”

The Russian smiled and chuckled. “ _Да,_ Tino, and you may call me Ivan. I wanted to ask you something.”

“Ivan.” He tested the name and found that he rather liked saying it. “What is it?”

Still smiling, he whispered in the smaller nation’s ear, “Can I kiss you?”

Tino froze, shocked even in his half-drunken haze. “W-what?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Ah…” He pushed himself upright, looking away from the other man’s amethyst gaze. “I don’t think that would be a very good idea…I’m married…Berwald wouldn’t like it…” He shivered when Ivan nuzzled his neck, twisting his hands into the scarf.

“One little kiss will not hurt anyone—Sweden does not even have to know. In the morning it will be as if none of this ever happened, _да?_ ” Taking his chin gently, the Russian tilted Tino’s face towards his own and looked deep into his eyes, their lips mere inches apart.

Tiino hesitated, unsure. The way Ivan phrased it made him want to believe he was right, but he couldn’t cheat on Berwald, not with his enemy during a war. Especially considering that Berwald was waiting for him and he was terrified that if he gave in then the Russian would keep asking for more; worst of all, he didn’t know if he would be able to resist. Already the larger man had captured his gaze and he couldn’t bring himself to look away, couldn’t force himself to push away the strong arms that held him and were so incredibly warm… One thing was for sure: no matter what happened or didn’t happen in that cave for the rest of the night, he was not going to tell Ivan that he had never been with anyone, despite being married. Berwald was waiting until the war ended to consummate their marriage, and it was then that Tiino would have sex for the first time. At least, that had been his plan up until he realized that he _wanted_ to kiss Russia.

“A-all right,” Tino mumbled, blushing darkly and looking down again. “I suppose it would be okay…”

Ivan chuckled again and once more gripped the smaller nation’s chin. “I have wanted to do this since the first time I laid eyes on you…” Then he kissed him, soft and sweet, gently so as not to frighten the nervous young nation sitting in his lap, who kissed back a little clumsily as if he did not have much experience. Almost without meaning too, he turned in the Russian’s arms and pressed closer, almost but not quite straddling him.

God, the taste of him. The Russian soldier couldn’t get enough.

He always thought the younger nation would be nice enough to kiss, but now he knew that “nice” was an understatement. His hand moved from chin to cheek and his arm tightened around the slim man’s waist, drawing him closer against his chest. Now Tino was truly straddling the larger man’s hips and he moaned softly at the sudden contact, shocked to feel the Russian’s hard length pressing against him; heat almost instantly formed in the pit of his stomach as he became aroused as well. He wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck, pressing against him, leaving no room for mistaking how he felt.

Ivan couldn’t help himself. He licked the other man’s lower lip, making him gasp, and used the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth. Tino moaned again, louder this time, and the Russian groaned, shifting as his arousal grew, as he became almost desperate for the young soldier. His hands went to the other’s hips and he pulled them down on his own as he moved against him, earning a third moan and a soft whimper. The kiss grew rougher as Ivan forced the other’s mouth open wider and wider, tilting his head in order to kiss him deeper, taking everything the Finn had to offer and demanding more. The blanket fell away as the Russian slowly lowered the smaller nation onto his back, still kissing him, his hips grinding against the younger man’s and making him groan loudly.

Gasping and light-headed, Tino finally managed to force himself to break away, turning his head to the side and panting heavily; he could feel the heat of a blush in his cheeks and knew that Ivan could see it. How had one little kiss turned into so much want, so much need? He shivered when the Russian’s attention went to his neck and he tasted the soft skin, kissing and nipping as a thought occurred to him.

“Let me take away your pain, Tino…” Ivan whispered, nuzzling his cheek, “let me apologize for the hurt and discomfort I have caused you…”

“W-what do you mean?” the other asked, confused. He was light-headed from the lack of oxygen and had already been somewhat hazy from the vodka they shared; he didn’t understand what more the other man could do after bandaging his wounds.

“I will show you.” With that, Ivan pulled away just enough so that he and the man beneath him were no longer touching. Almost immediately, Tino began to shiver and wanted nothing more than to pull him back, to feel the Russian’s body against his own. A small smile curved Ivan’s lips and he kissed the man he hoped to make love to soon, kissed him softly for just a moment before kissing along each scar and wound he could find on that slim, fit body. Each kiss produced a gasp, moan, or whimper, and by the time he had tended to each of Tino’s injuries he could not resist any longer; he had to taste him. Gently gripping the blond man’s hips, Ivan pinned them to cave floor and slowly took the younger nation’s hardened length into his mouth, sucking lightly on his tip at first then slowly taking more and more until he had all of him.

“Ah! I-Ivan! Nng…! S-stop…please!” Tiino begged, but despite his words, his body arched off the stone floor and his toes curled at the sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine; his hands tangled themselves in Ivan’s silver hair and tugged. He fought against the Russian’s hold on his hips, desperately needing to move, wanting more than anything in the world at that moment to buck his hips up off the floor and see if it was possible to feel any more pleasure than he already did. “L-let me go!”

Ivan was too strong for him to break his hold, but he proved to the younger nation that he knew what he was doing. He heard Tino’s cries for him to stop and ignored them, focusing instead on what the other nation’s body was telling him to do. When he whimpered, Ivan sucked harder and when he groaned he let go of all but his tip. He squeezed the Finn’s hips every now and then, teased with his tongue until the nation below him was practically in tears from pleasure and once or twice grazed him with his teeth, making him freeze and tremble until Ivan would release him just long enough to lick from his base to his tip and start the whole torturous process over again.

There was too much pleasure, too much stimuli for his body to handle. Every flick of that tongue, every squeeze on his hips, every hot breath on his overly sensitive flesh made him writhe and kick, made his back arch off the floor as he whimpered and groaned. Tiino could feel his release approaching, and rather than beg for Ivan to stop and leave him be, he began to beg for him to finish it. 

“Hah…I-I’m close…please…I-Ivan!” He bucked roughly when the older man suddenly moved his hands down to squeeze and rub his thighs and sucked hard on his tip, and he all but sang when Ivan dragged him over the edge.

“ _Ivan,_ ” he moaned, falling limply onto the stone floor as his tormentor made sure that he had not missed a single drop—it was enough to make him hard all over again.

“ _Да…?_ ” The Russian began trailing kisses up the other man’s abdomen and chest then neck; his hands stayed on his thighs, rubbing gently. Pressing close to him, Ivan could feel him shaking from the force of his release and chuckled. That was definitely something he meant to do again and again and again; the Finnish soldier tasted sweeter than honey.

“Mm…nothing…” Tino sighed, wrapping his arms around Ivan’s neck again so that he wouldn’t be able to pull away. That was the last thing on the Russian’s to do list.

When he finished kissing his victim’s neck, he kissed him hard, possessively, clearly stating that Finland was his and always would be, no matter what. The younger male’s response took him by surprise, but he was in no way disappointed. With a low growl, Tino bit the other nation’s lip and tugged, arching his hips into Ivan’s and moving just enough to draw a moan from him. Ivan’s domineering behavior was turned back on him and he quickly found himself in a position he had almost no experience with—he was flat on his back with Tino straddling his waist, pinning his wrists to the floor as he kissed the Russian.

No one had ever exhibited the ability to be dominant towards him before, and it made him see the younger nation in a different light. He had liked him well enough before, thought he was cute and sweet, admired his strength, but Finland was well on his way to making the Russian fall in love with him, and that was dangerous territory for a married man like Tino. He began to dread the moment when the sun would rise and the blizzard would end, along with their ceasefire.

Without any warning, the smaller man aggressively bucked his hips down Ivan’s, tearing a groan from his throat and making him arch off the floor; he lifted Tino with no difficulty at all. That pleased the Finn a great deal and he showed it by rubbing against the tall soldier, earning a moan this time, and kissing him just as roughly as Ivan had done to him only moments before. The Finnish soldier even surprised himself with how aggressive he was being as he bit the Russian’s lip, slipped his tongue into his mouth, tilted his head to deepen the kiss. It was not possessive the way Ivan’s kiss had been, but it was definitely Finland’s way of saying that he would not allow Russia to use him as a plaything for the night. Not until the slim man began to take Ivan’s scarf off did he growl and grab his wrists, stopping him.

“ _Нет,_ ” was all he said as he looked into Tiino’s eyes, voice and expression calm even though the young soldier had felt him tense the moment he touched the scarf. He only nodded in response and Ivan let go of his wrists.

Careful not to touch the scarf again, Tiino lifted himself away from Ivan’s eager body and began to kiss along each wound and scar, just the way Ivan had done to him. The difference was that Ivan’s wounds were not bound, and some were still bleeding, though Finland did not hesitate to lick them clean, and Russia did not complain. On the contrary, the sounds he let escape rather seemed like he enjoyed the treatment. And then, just as the larger nation had done to him, Tiino pinned the Russian’s hips to the floor and torturously slowly licked the length of him. He was not strong enough or heavy enough to keep his soon-to-be victim from arching his hips off the floor, but that didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Smirking, the Finnish soldier did it again, digging his fingers into the Russian’s hips, then just barely bit his tip. Ivan would not have been able to hold back the groan that burst from him if his life depended on it, and Tino knew it, too. The smaller nation took his time in tormenting him, licking and nipping, never taking more than his tip into his mouth.

“Nn…! T-Tino…!” Ivan moaned, almost whining as his hips writhed in the other man’s grasp. He was almost mad with the need for his release and would do just about anything his tormentor said in order to get it. No one had ever made him wait before, and he couldn’t decide if he liked the torture or not.

Finland grinned smugly and quickly took as much of the Russian as he could, using his hand to compensate and squeezing his base as he hummed deep in his throat. “Hmmmm?”

With a shout, the taller nation bucked and released as Tiino swallowed greedily, dragging his nails down Ivan’s thigh. Panting, Ivan slowly relaxed and lay on the floor, closing his eyes. He could hardly believe what had just been done to him. If that was the pleasure he got from the Finnish man’s mouth, what would it be like to take him? Just the thought had him hard; he _wanted_.

Wiping his mouth, Tino sat up and smirked down at the man beneath him. It wasn’t the first time he had performed that particular sexual favor, but he had never gotten such a strong reaction and he rather liked knowing what he could do to the seemingly un-flappable Russian.

“How was that?” he asked, trailing his fingers down the still-heaving chest to trace the well-toned abdominal muscles. His gaze moved lower and his fingers followed suit but he didn’t get the chance to touch that most sensitive part of the body. Ivan’s hands went to his waist and the next thing Tiino knew he was on his back again as the Russian kissed and bit his neck and slid a hand down his body to touch him. His breath hitching, Tiino tilted his head back and closed his eyes, moaning softly as his back arched off the floor. 

For a moment, he relaxed as Ivan took his hand away, but only for a moment before the Russian’s suddenly slick hand wrapped around him firmly and rubbed slowly. He arched and moaned, biting his lip against the pleasure as the hand on him moved faster and faster, and bucked with a whimper when Ivan squeezed roughly. Just as he was nearing the edge, the man above him slowed his hand and squeezed torturously gently, leaving him on the brink of his release.

“Hah…f-fuck you…” he muttered, glaring up at the smirking Russian.

Ivan leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Is that an invitation, Tino Väinämöinen?” Still with his smirk in place, he bit the shorter man’s ear and squeezed him gently before running a finger up and down his length. 

“Nn…n-no…” he replied, squeezing his eyes shut against a new wave of sensations. His hips moved almost of their own accord as the Russian soldier tormented him and sucked on his ear, tugging gently. That simple action sent a rush of desire through him and a lust stronger than he had ever felt took hold; he could sense the longing behind Ivan’s actions and now he shared it. He hadn’t meant it as an invitation, but perhaps it would end up that way, if things continued the way they were.

For a moment he thought of Berwald, waiting for him to return home from the war and expecting a pure wife to take to his bed, and he felt guilt and shame for what he was doing in some cave with a man he was in a war with over his independence. It was only for a moment, however, because then Ivan’s hand twisted and squeezed, pumping him, and he released, his hips bucking violently as he shouted his name. The Russian grinned and kissed him softly before sitting up and licking his hand clean, looking Tino in the eyes as he did so that he blushed.

Sitting up slowly due to the ache in his abused body, he shifted onto his knees and kissed Ivan’s scarred shoulder. “My turn…?”

“Your turn to what, my little Tino?” He smiled and stroked the smaller man’s cheek, pleased at the blush the nickname caused.

With an innocent smile, Tino moved closer, slowly trailing his fingers down the muscled chest, past the toned abs, and paused teasingly just below the belly button. “Guess.”

The heat in Ivan’s gaze made him shiver. “ _Да,_ it is your turn, my little Tiino.”

Blushing slightly at the endearing words, Finland leaned closer to the larger nation, straddling his hips, and torturously slowly let his hand drift further down. Lightly, he trailed one slim finger along his companion’s erection, earning a soft moan, and then wrapped his fingers around as much of him as he could and squeezed gently.

“Tino,” Ivan whined, shifting uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to being teased and had become so aroused that he was in pain; if the younger nation continued torturing him, he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

“ _Да?_ ” the Finnish soldier replied, mimicking his accent playfully. He rubbed slowly, nuzzling the larger man’s cheek as he pressed against him.

“Let me take you.”

Tino froze as the words that had been growled into his ear sank in. The Russian wanted to have sex with him, to take his virginity—granted, he didn’t know the Finn was a virgin—and therefore make a claim on him that no one else would ever have. Was that his plan all along? To seduce Tino and claim ownership over his body even now in the midst of their war? Was…was that what all this was about? The war?

_Is he only being so kind…the only reason he hasn’t just killed me and won the war…because he wants everyone to know that he outsmarted me? If I let him take me and betray Berwald even more than I already have…_

Fear made the smaller man pull away from the Russian and press his back to the wall, much the way he’d been doing when Ivan first entered the cave. He didn’t want this, to be used and claimed as if he was no more than the land Russia’s government so desperately wanted to reclaim. As those amethyst eyes examined him curiously, he pulled his legs close to his body.

“Why?” he whispered, gaze locked on the contrast between the dark stone floor of the cave and paleness of his toes.

“Why what, my little Tino?”

The phrase seemed possessive now rather than endearing like before, and Finland almost wanted to shout at the bigger man, but he didn’t.

“Why are you doing this, Russia?” He lifted his chin and met Ivan’s gaze with a fierce look. “You invade my territory and attack my people, killing, destroying homes and lives, and for what? To protect your precious city?”

The stinging words made Ivan draw back and he stared at the smaller nation in astonishment. “What…?”

“Don’t fucking look at me like that!” Tino yelled, his fear and anger getting the better of him. “I know the only reason you’re being so nice to me is so I’ll surrender to you and become your territory again! You want to fuck me so you’ll have a claim on me, and if I let you then it’ll be like surrender, right?”

Ivan blinked, surprised by the sudden accusations. “ _Н-нет,_ we have a ceasefire…this has nothing to do with the war…” 

“Then why do you want to have sex with me? Why did you kiss me and touch me the way you did?” the smaller man demanded. “And you’d better not lie to me cause if you do I swear I’ll shoot you!”

Both men looked to where their weapons were drying by the fire that had begun to die due to lack of attention. Ivan was much closer to them than Tino was, but he didn’t doubt how serious the Finn was about shooting him if he lied and the blond managed to get his hands on one of the guns.

“Tino,” Ivan said quietly, trying to sooth the younger man.

“Finland.”

The Russian held back a sigh and reminded himself that now was not a good time to lose his temper even though he was sorely tempted to grab the smaller man and shake some sense into him. It infuriated him that the man he’d been pleasuring and caring for over the last few hours was suddenly throwing these accusations at him as if Russia was some sort of manipulative psychopath.

Well, okay. Sometimes he used others for his own gain and lied when it suited his goals, but this definitely wasn’t one of those times. He didn’t want to trick the Finnish man into trusting him, even if it was just for the night. For once, he wanted someone to genuinely trust him and want to be around him, however briefly that acceptance lasted.

“Finland, the ceasefire was my idea, _да?_ Why would I try to trick you?”

That, at least, seemed to put some doubt into the fears Tino had thought up. “Be…because we’re at war and…it would be easy for you to overpower me in a fight…so you made me feel wanted and l-loved…”

He stopped suddenly, eyes widening before he looked away as if he’d just realized what word he’d used to describe the way Russia made him feel. It made the bigger man want to smile and hug him close, cuddle him in the warmth of their blanket and whisper sweet nothings in his ear until the sun came up, but he knew Finland would never accept such closeness while he was still suspicious.

“If I was going to fight you, I would never have called the ceasefire,” Russia explained calmly, settling comfortably on the stone floor of the cave and pulling the blanket up over his shoulders; perhaps the lure of being warm again would entice the blond to join him like before. The longing that came into Finland’s eyes betrayed him as he stared at the Russian, though he made no move to come closer and shifted against the rock wall that was digging into his back slightly.

“Swear on your life that you aren’t tricking me.”

“I swear on my life that I mean you no harm. Now come here before you get sick. You are already shivering again.” Ivan opened his arms in a welcoming gesture and Tino hesitantly moved closer as if he still wasn’t sure he could trust this man.

_It doesn’t matter if he takes me and tries to use it to win the war. I’ll deny everything, anyway, and go home to Berwald like planned. No one will ever know about this but us._

With that thought firmly in mind, Tino curled up in Russia’s lap like he had been before the bigger man had asked to kiss him and sighed at the warmth, relaxing once more.

“It surprises me that you are so cold,” the Russian murmured as he wrapped his arms around Tino securely. “You should be used to it like me, _да?_ ”

Tino paused before answering, judging whether this question was safe to answer or not. “I…it’s because my soldiers don’t have enough uniforms, so I gave mine away. The clothes I’ve been wearing for this entire war are just regular clothes. They’re warm, but they don’t do much good in a blizzard or when there’s fighting going on.”

His explanation surprised Russia—the Finns were even shorter on supplies than he had thought, and they were still doing remarkably well in the war, though that part wasn’t surprising. He knew that his own soldiers lacked morale because of his boss’ purge only a few years earlier, and that they weren’t used to the terrain and the type of fighting they’d had to adapt to and learn quickly in order to survive.

The entire situation made him angry. He had let Finland separate from his rule peacefully in 1917 because he was too busy worrying about the civil war that had broken out shortly after and because the Bolshevik government he’d had at the time was too weak to stop the Finns from declaring their independence. Russia had hidden how much he missed the smaller nation—even though he had never truly spent time with Tino and had given the Finn autonomy within his empire, it still hurt to see him leave. Relations with him had been tense ever since. Now, twenty-two years later, his boss wanted the land of Finland under Russian rule again. While he was glad for the opportunity to see Tino again, Ivan knew that every battle, every death would only make the Finn less willing to join him in the end. That was why this, what he did tonight, was so important. He had to convey to Tino that he didn’t want to hurt him and that if he did win the war and once again controlled Finland, he would be kind to him, as before.

“…Ivan?”

“ _Да?_ ”

Tino fiddled with a frayed spot on the blanket. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

This time, Russia didn’t hold back his smile—the smaller nation was so cute! “I understand. You are only doing what is best for your people. It is good to be cautious in times of war.”

“Yeah, but…I…kind of…want to…” Trailing off nervously, Tino traced small circles on the Russian’s muscular chest, secretly loving the power he could feel contained just below the skin.

His brows coming together in a puzzled frown, Ivan looked down at the man in his lap and tilted the Finn’s chin up so he could look him in the eye. “You want to, what?”

Tino hesitated for a moment then sat up, brushing his lips against the larger male’s in a chaste kiss, his cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. “I want you…to take me…”

Violet eyes widening slightly in surprise, Ivan only nodded once before gently gripping Tino’s chin and kissing him deeply in that possessive way he was so fond of. To his disappointment, the Finn pulled away almost immediately and shook his head.

“Not like that…gentle…”

Ivan smiled. “Very well, my little Tino.”

He kissed him again, gently this time, and waited for permission before slipping his tongue into the smaller man’s mouth as he once more laid him on his back. The blanket would be the only protection his pale flesh would have from the rough stone floor. Tino’s arms wrapped around the Russian’s scarf-covered neck and he pulled him closer, loving the way it felt to have the other nation’s superior bulk press down on his in a blanket of heat and lust and barely restrained power. He focused on the kiss with all his might, trying to ignore the feeling of a hand sliding under his bottom and lifting his hips off the blanket; he felt another hand parting his cheeks and did his best not to tense up and give away how nervous he was, trembling and squirming when a finger found his entrance and stroked it gently.

“I-Ivan…” he whimpered as he broke the kiss only to hide his face in the Russian’s scarf and cling to him as the hand was removed; a glance told him that Ivan was now sucking on three of his fingers and he blushed darkly. “W-what are you doing?”

Almost apologetic, Ivan finished slicking his fingers then removed them from his mouth. “We do not have any lubricant, so I was making do with spit.”

That made Tino’s blush darken ten-fold—he’d completely forgotten that they didn’t have lubricant or condoms or any of the other things Sweden had sent him to buy so that they would be ready when Tino returned home from the war. “O-oh…okay…” He jumped slightly when something cold and wet touched his entrance and he quickly realized it was one of the fingers Ivan had been sucking on.

“Ready, my little Tino?” The whisper was husky and almost desperate. Already the finger was rubbing and stroking in a way that made the Finn’s limbs feel like wet noodles; he held onto Russia tighter.

“…do it…”

As gently as he could, Russia pushed the tip of his finger past the tight ring of muscles and into the man below him, wincing at the sound of pain Tino tried to conceal by pressing his face into Ivan’s shoulder.

“Relax…it will only hurt for a moment…” he tried to sooth him, moving his finger slowly as Tino squirmed and whimpered.

“I-I know…it’s just…hah…been a while…”

That was a lie, but Ivan didn’t know that, so he just nodded and patiently worked his finger until Tino’s sounds became less pain-filled and he didn’t move around so much. When it seemed that most of the pain had faded, he carefully pushed another finger into the smaller man and scissored them, stretching Finland’s entrance as the blond gasped and arched, a jumble of half-said Finnish words spilling from his mouth at the sensation.

It was odd and still a little painful but…good, too. It felt good to have Ivan touch him this way, in a way no one, not even Berwald, had ever touched him, and when he felt a third finger being slid into him he bucked and groaned without hesitation. Part of him was ashamed at that, but the rest of him was starting to sweat despite the cold just beyond Ivan’s arms and was moving his hips back down, trying to push those invasive, calloused fingers deeper into his body as he moaned the name of the nation above him. His reaction seemed to please Ivan, because the fingers began to move faster, twisting, bending and spreading, rubbing against his insides and sending shocks of pleasure through his body so that his toes curled and his nails dug into the bare skin of Russia’s back.

“E-enough…” he finally managed to gasp, eyes wide as he panted and tried not to lose himself in the hot coil forming in his stomach. “T-take me…”

“Are you sure?” Ivan asked, worried that it was too soon. He hadn’t managed to find Tino’s prostate yet and he wanted to have a general idea of where it was so that he’d be able to find it quickly after taking him so the pain would go away faster.

Wiggling slightly, Tino looked up at the Russian with an adorable smile, though his eyes were darkened by something much less innocent. “Yes.”

Ivan returned the smile and kissed the Finn’s forehead affectionately. “Very well.” Carefully, he removed his fingers and wiped them on the blanket—it would have to be washed after this, anyway—then spat on his palm and rubbed himself, biting his lip to hold in his moans. Tino watched him with hooded eyes, mouth slightly open as he tried to catch his breath, and a pink tongue darted out to moisten his lips. Just the glimpse of that tongue made Ivan almost shudder in anticipation and he hurried to finish covering himself in spit then moved over the smaller man again.

“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he whispered between kisses on the Finn’s neck and behind his ear, tongue sometimes flicking out to taste the soft flesh. Tino did as he was told and shivered nervously at the feeling of Ivan’s erection pressed against his backside. The Russian wasn’t small by any means and was actually almost frighteningly large. This was definitely going to hurt, but he tried not to tense up when Ivan positioned himself at his entrance and held his hips securely.

“On three,” he whispered, and Tino nodded. “ _Один._ ”

His hips shifted forward, pushing his tip into the smaller man and making Tino tighten his legs around the Russian’s hips with a sharp intake of breath.

“ _Два_.” Another push forward that drove a groan from the Finn as he was filled almost completely, pain mixed with pleasure coursing through him.

“ _Три_.”

“Ivan!” The name burst from Tino as the Russian’s hips pressed against his own and he was driven into, the size of the intruding member stretching him farther than he’d thought possible, filling him until he was sure he would break from it. It hurt more than he’d expected and he felt tears swelling in his eyes then running down his cheeks as his body struggled to accommodate Ivan’s cock; he whimpered in his throat and gently bit the Russian’s shoulder as he shuddered and cried with almost no sound.

A hand was placed on the back of his head, stroking his hair gently, and he heard Russia murmuring to him. “Relax, little Tino. The pain will fade soon, and I will give you all the pleasure you desire…”

Slowly, his hips pulled back, and Tino gasped at the feeling of Ivan’s length moving inside him, his back arching so far off the cave floor that he was barely touching the blanket at all. It was the strangest sensation he’d ever experienced, and painful. But, as Ivan had promised, the more he moved the less it hurt, and then the Finn’s gasps and moans were from pleasure rather than pain. Ivan was gentler than Tino believed possible and he held tight to the larger man, losing himself in the heat of the Russian’s body, in the strength of the arms around him and the patient rocking of hips against his own. There was a coil of heat in his stomach, growing tighter and hotter with every movement until each breath was a gasp and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. It seemed that Ivan was nearing his own breaking point. The hot breaths on Tino’s neck became more erratic and the Russian began moving faster, his thrusts coming harder than before though not hard enough to cause Tino any discomfort; in fact, the change in pace dragged a moan from the blond that made Ivan grind his hips slowly but firmly against Tino’s.

“I want to hear you call my name,” he purred seductively into the smaller man’s ear, then licked the shell, tugging and sucking on it like it he meant to eat it.

“I-Ivan…”

“Louder.”

Tino whimpered as the Russian’s slow pace continued, letting out a breath each time the other man pulled back only to moan and clutch at him as he thrust forward again. Suddenly, Ivan angled his hips differently and thrust quickly, hitting something inside Tino that the Finn had never known was there. He couldn’t help it—it felt like a wave of pure pleasure rolled over him from his toes to the top of his head and a shout was all he managed to get out before he was left gasping and making noises that resembled words but didn’t belong to any known language.

“Ivan! _Voi Luoja!_ Ah...!”

And then the Russian did it again, making Tino cry out his name like before. He continued hitting that spot until the Finn was reduced to little more than a moaning mess of nation that was so close to him he was almost a second skin. It wasn’t enough for either of them to releae, however, so he relinquished his hold on Tino’s hip and began to stroke the younger nation gently.

Sounds somewhere between whines and groans left the smaller male’s throat and his stomach arched towards the roof of the cave, lifting his hips in an instinctual attempt to increase the friction on his groin.

” _V-voi hyvä jumala...Venäjä...aaah...se on...n-niin paljon...._ ”

Tiino’s voice was broken by pleasure and listening to him was like music. Even though his Finnish was a little rusty, Ivan understood well enough. His new lover was close, and so was he. The only reason he hadn’t cum yet was becuase he wanted to give Finland his release first, as was right.

” _Отпусти, Финляндия...mmm...отпустить ..._ ” he whispered into the smaller nation’s ear before biting the sensitive flesh. A shiver worked its way through Tino and Ivan took that as his cue.

The pace of his hips increased; one of his hands cupped the Finn’s backside to lift his hips off the floor so that Ivan could move deeper inside of him.

”Ah...ah...Ivan...I c-can’t...!”

Letting the smaller nation’s ear slip from between his teeth, Ivan squeezed the flesh in his grasp and bucked roughly. ”Cum...” he commanded in a whisper, and Finland shuddered as his climax finally arrived.

His slender frame shook, arms tight around the older male’s neck as his hips jerked upwards with the force of his release. The rush of pleasure tore a cry from his lips, the sound echoing around the cave for several moments. He was still in the throes of his orgasm when Ivan’s hips thrust against him again as the Russian gave a loud groan, and he choked back a moan at the increased sensitivity his body was experiencing; an unfamiliar warmth began to spread through his lower body.

Breath coming in pants, Ivan slowly released his hold on Finland and drew his hips back until his softening length slipped free.

”Nn...” Eyes hazy and only slightly open, Tino stared up at his companion, his body limp against the blanket. It almost felt strange, being so empty after something like that, but three orgasms in such a short amount of time had left him exhausted. He couldn’t have moved now if he’d wanted to. Luckily for him, Ivan didn’t seem to have much energy left, either. The violet-eyed nation barely bothered to shift the few inches to lie beside him, and soon Finland found himself wrapped in arms that were already familiar. Ivan’s cold scent surrounded him, but he was warm and sated and surprisingly comfortable, all things considered.

Outside, the storm continued to rage on. It would last hours still, and the woods would be nearly impassible with the new snow. That didn’t matter to the cave’s inhabitants, though, and neither did the fact that they would be enemies again come morning. For now, they were lovers, and they were tired, and they were going to sleep in the comfort of each other.

**Author's Note:**

> TRANSLATIONS:  
> "V-voi hyvä jumala...Venäjä...aaah...se on...n-niin paljon....”  
>  Finnish: O-oh good God...Russia...aaah...it’s...s-so much...  
> "Oтпусти, Финляндия...mmm...отпустить ...”  
>  Russian: Let go, Finland...mmm....let go...”


End file.
